#winchesterfosterfamilynetwork

[crowleyheart]

hey peeps! I'm at my frands house atm using her computer. my laptop is currently deceased and we'll have to see what the apple store peeps can do about it. so yeah, I'll be using my father's old macbook pro to finish off the collages over the next week or so, but ideally, gonna get my laptop up and running again over the next week. hope to see you guys soon ♥ sorry again for being gone so long u___u

[shippindales]

PROMO BECAUSE I'M REALLY UPSET ABOUT TONIGHT'S ARROW

mbf this distraught mess

reblog this post (likes will get you stabbed in the chest and that's a spoiler)

send me something to cheer me up (if it's arrow related or one of my ships you get a bonus)

must reach 20 notes or I'm gonna go cry again

ily

[solterrano-archive]

*runs into the botm scene several days late with starbucks*

must be following this lady

reblog (likes don't count as an entry)

must reach 30 notes

one winner, two runners up

prizes include promos, link in my sidebar/updates tab, and a follow back

reblogging ends the second, winners announced the third

[solterrano-archive]

*gently pokes my theme blog towards you*

[solterrano-archive]

48 hour tumblr awards cuz Summerfest is almost here and I can't wait.  and jess banner because let's be real; who doesn't love jess?

rules

mbf abaddoh

reblog this post

no likes, por favor

must reach 50 notes

reblogging ends in about 48 hours; June 26th, whenever it is I wake up yes two days is technically June 25th but hopefully at that time i'll be at sfest watching the arctic monkeys so hush

categories

Best URL

Best Icon

Best Theme

Best Supernatural

Best Doctor Who Blog

Best Original Content

Rising Star*

Best Overall

prizes

winner

Two promos whenever you want

Spot in my updates tab

Group promo when announced

Another group promo on the last day of sfest; July 6

runner up

One promo whenever you want

Spot in my updates tab

Group promo when announced

* to be considered for the Rising Star award, you must have less then 750 followers.  please submit a screenshot of your follower count to be considered.  sorry.

[crowleyheart]

sorry for the absence! I've been at the beck and call of my parents since I got home. go and get these groceries chloe. fill up the gas chloe. check tire prices at costco chloe. apply for more jobs chloe. clean the bathrooms chloe. bring these clothes to the donation place chloe. yeah these are all excuses but it's been a whirlwind month so far. I need to double-check that I've cancelled internet at my old apartment, actually...

so yes! things will be up and running again within the next week or so, I've just got a lot more on my plate than I expected

[quillquiver]

Breathing~ A 9.21 Coda

Dean insists they get separate rooms. Whether it’s because he can’t deal with Sam, or the façade he has to constantly place and replace whenever they’re around each other, Dean Winchester gets his own room. When he sleeps, the First Blade is kept under his pillow, hand wrapped around it securely and as if waiting for a threat. Despite his fitful sleep, Dean doesn’t hear Castiel enter the room.

Cas just needs some air. The angels have been… responsive to his leadership, to say the least; the tasks they’ve been assigned have been executed with nothing less than divine reverence. But the enthusiasm of his… group, is stifling at best. They leave him no room to exist as an individual, and all Castiel needs is space. He needs to breathe in a place where the air isn’t tinted with Grace and lies and obedience. He needs humanity. He needs earth and gas and leather and whiskey. He needs Dean.

The motel isn’t so far from where Cas’s command centre is, and the angel, admittedly, ignores the speed limit in his haste towards temporary freedom. Even in his car, Castiel feels like he’s suffocating.

Because for the first time since he’s known him, Dean is sleeping with a furrow in his brow. He doesn’t look peaceful, or content, but tense and troubled, like his problems have chased him beyond the realm of dreams and into every crevice of his subconscious, eating at every bit that makes Dean Dean. Being in this room isn’t freeing, it’s stifling.

And so very human:

Cas doesn’t want to leave. He wants to help. He wants to crawl into bed and use the remaining sting of his Grace to smooth the lines on Dean’s forehead, and make his mind completely blank. He wants to touch and comfort and kiss like April had done with him almost a lifetime ago… but he wants it meaningful this time; he doesn’t want to feel that he or Dean owe each other anything. Castiel wants to indulge because Dean deserves good things and people who care for him.

In a movement too fast to be considered human, Dean has Cas up against the wall, blade poised at the angel’s throat. It takes him roughly three seconds to understand what’s going on. “’The fuck, man?” Dean growls, hesitantly lowering the weapon. “Could’a fuckin’ killed you.”

“No,” Cas says softly. He sounds so certain, Dean is inclined to believe him… but all it takes is a sliver of a thought regarding his loss of control when it came to ending Abaddon, and he’s not so sure Cas’s faith is well-placed anymore, or if it even was to begin with. But instead of disagreeing, Dean just gives Cas a look. “Don’t do that,” he mutters gruffly.

“Dean?”

“What’d we say, Cas? It’s fuckin’ creepy to watch people sleep!”

“I don’t have much time.”

Dean pauses. “…For what?”

Even though Castiel is fully aware of his intentions with those words, he plays dumb for Dean’s benefit, shrugging as if he’s just as bewildered by the words tumbling from his mouth. “The angels will come looking for me. I just wanted to breathe.”

A frown. “Then ‘the fuck’re you doin’ here?”

It takes one terrifying second, but Castiel makes his decision. He steps up to Dean before he can lose his nerve, one hand cupping the back of the other man’s neck as he presses a chaste kiss to plump, pink lips. Dean drops the blade and steps away in a manner that makes Cas think he’s done it wrong. He looks bewildered.

Castiel is convinced he’s about to be kicked out, but… no. In an all around unsuspected turn of events, the hunter steps forward until they’re in each other’s space, green eyes dragging up from mouth to baby blues. “What’re you doin’ here?” he whispers, and though the words are the same they feel urgent now, like Dean needs to know or he’ll unravel. Castiel leans forward. When Dean doesn’t pull away, Cas kisses him again. It’s softer than the first, but there’s a steady thrum of need behind it.

When they pull away, Castiel responds to the hunter’s question. What is he doing? “Breathing,” he murmurs. And either Dean understands or he simply doesn’t care, because the other man slumps against his angelic partner, falling into contact and pleasure and unconditional acceptance with little more than a sigh.

But Dean can only kiss slow for so long.

Cas knows it’s because of The Mark, and he humours the hunter for a while; enjoying the sloppy, wet, desperate press of lips. It feels dirty and hot and nothing like he’s ever experienced before, but Castiel can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t Dean. And Dean is the only person, in this reality or any other, that Cas has realized he wants to kiss.

So, the angel takes the lead. He pulls away from where Dean’s tongue is licking into his mouth, turning the contact chaste and sweet again as he wraps his arms around his partner in more of a hug. Again, Dean tries to speed things up, but Cas isn’t having any of it; instead, the angel kneads the muscles of his partner’s back and shoulders, fingers then moving up to brush through Dean’s short hair and scratch at his scalp.

Somehow, Dean lets go.

Their kisses are tired at this point; sloppy because of exhaustion. Things begin to pick up when Cas nibbles on Dean’s bottom lip and licks into his mouth, but Castiel tries to keep it as slow as possible. He wants to savor this. He wants it to last.

They disrobe slowly; shaky fingers fumbling with buttons and t-shirt clumsily pulled over Dean’s head. In what feels like no time the pair are languidly kissing in their underwear, bare chests bumping together as they move and touch. Here, Dean lets Cas make the first move, the angel pulling away to nibble at his hunter’s ear while his hands move to cup Dean’s perfect, round ass. “Can I? I mean, may I…?” his breath hitches when Dean kisses his neck. “Dean…”

What Castiel’s asking for is a total relinquishment of control. He’s asking for trust in its basest form.

Dean nods his assent.

It’s different than the other people he’s fucked since having The Mark; quick lays to ease the constant itch beneath his skin. He’s rough now and he knows it, but anyone who approaches the surly, war-torn hero type surely knows what they’re in for.

It’s not like that with Cas.

With Cas, things are oddly tender, from the way they fall onto the bed to when Castiel preps him, listening with adorable intensity to Dean’s instructions. He’s eager to learn but keeps control in a way that isn’t harsh; there’s no pushing or pulling or pinning. Instead, Cas asserts himself with… love.

Like, for example, the way he whispers in Dean’s ear: “I miss you, I need you, stay with me. Dean, please, stay with me.”  Or the way he moves; like Dean isn’t breakable, but something so incredibly treasured and precious.

When Cas slips inside him, he gives the hunter ample time to adjust despite the fact that his entire form is taut with pleasure, urging him to move. Dean sees this, but he can’t understand it. He can’t understand why Castiel—good, kind, perfect, Castiel—has decided to shower him with affection. As Cas begins to move, Dean gets his answer.

The angel threads their fingers together, moving his hips in deliciously slow movements as he brings their hands above Dean’s head, gently pressing into the mattress. “I love you,” he says breathlessly, blue eyes focused on green.

God help him, Dean loves him back.

Everything is savoured: from kisses to the rolling of hips to the slide of skin against skin. And it’s easy—so easy, to pretend like everything is okay; like this moment will last forever and they’ll never have to leave each other again. Like the threat of Death is non-existent. Cas makes sure Dean comes first, the hunter moaning and panting and whimpering into his angel’s mouth as his muscles spasm around Cas exquisitely. Eyes squeezed shut, Castiel comes moments later.

And after they clean up; after wet fingers have traced across chapped lips and freckled cheeks, causing both men to smile in ways they haven’t in such a long time, Cas and Dean lay on the bed. They don’t cuddle so much as hold each other like they’re the only two people left in the entirety of the expanding Universe, and don’t intend to fall asleep despite the fact that they do, completely entangled. When they wake, Dean discovers that he’s the little spoon. He finds he doesn’t care.

Kissing goodbye is more bitter than sweet, because they’re in the middle of a war, and though one side has been momentarily dealt with, the other is powerful in ways both men can’t fathom… Who knows when they’ll have another chance to be together like this? Who knows if they’ll have another chance at all? It’s hard to step away, to stop kissing and touching, but Cas knows the other angels will find him soon, and he doesn’t want them to find him here. Because they can have everything else, but they can’t have this; this is his. His mind, his strategy skills, his talents for diplomacy… all these things Castiel will give to the cause, but he won’t give his heart, not completely. The biggest, truest, best part of his heart he gives to Dean.

Dean walks Cas to his car and they kiss against it, the contact deep and heavy in a foreboding way neither party has ever experienced. It feels like a final goodbye, and Dean hates it… but again, he lets go. He takes Cas’s hand and places a soft kiss to his palm before opening his door. Castiel, in turn, runs his fingers over the Mark of Cain, using as much Grace as he can muster to soothe the burn he knows is there. Dean kisses him once more in thanks.

Castiel slides into the car, rolls down his window, and Dean leans down. It feels like a sick joke; like a parody of what was only a couple of weeks ago but feels like two centuries previous: when Cas was working at the Gas-n-Sip and had leaned down to say goodbye. This time, the pair kiss again, pulling away with small smiles before they part ways. They’re the kind of smiles that say: ‘I respect you, and I will love you to the ends of this world and every other that comes after, no matter the outcome’.

Then Cas drives away, and Dean goes back inside. On the floor of his room, the First Blade stares up at him. Dean almost touches it, but a tan not-trenchcoat catches his eye. Cas forgot it. Quickly traversing the room, Dean picks up the article of clothing and inhales deeply. He wraps the Blade in the jacket and places them both in his duffle before grabbing his keys. He gets breakfast for the first time in a week.

After all, he’ll need his strength if he’s gonna survive this war, and surviving is imperative… If he doesn’t, how is Castiel going to get his coat back?

[quillquiver]

DRUBNK

There’s something to be said for alcohol. Because yes, logically, Castiel is aware that indulging in drink is considered ‘sinful’… but humans use that particular word (and its variants) in the most random, incorrect ways anyway. If chocolate can be ‘sinful’, and being homosexual is a ‘sin’, what kind of weight does it have, anyway?

None, Cas thinks seriously, looking at the slowly diminishing amber liquid as it sloshes around the bottle clutched tightly in his hand. The word ‘sin’ means as much as the word ‘giraffe’ in the context of morality. Which is to say, nothing at all.

Besides, alcohol is a fabulous idea. It makes you forget, it makes you feel happy, and it brings important considerations to light. Like: it’s been exactly six hours and three minutes since Cas has last spoken to Dean. Why is that? It’s actually imperative that Cas speaks to him. Right now. Because… well, because there are important things to discuss.  Things like: ‘when are you coming back I miss you I love you so much have you ever thought about engaging in coitus with me I have I believe that with your experience you’d be a thorough and tender lover.’ And there’s also Dean’s crippling lack of self-worth to consider.

Really, the possibilities are infinite.

It’s more the latter than the former that has Cas reaching (read: pawing) at his pocket for his phone, but the important thing is that the former angel has a firm grip on the device when he flops back onto the rickety motel bed. 

To: Dean Winchester From: Castiel Sent 3:06 AM DEABN 

To: Dean Winchester From: Castiel Sent 3:06 AM bean e have to tajklk 

To: Dean Winchester From: Castiel Sent 3:07 AM IMPOTANUT

Castiel is completely unaware, of course, but in a dilapidated warehouse approximately a half hour away, Dean's position is given away by a perpetually vibrating phone.

When he arrives at the motel a two hours later, Dean Winchester is not a happy camper.

Because his phone has been vibrating every five seconds with semi-legible messages; some making absolutely no sense—his personal favourite was when Cas had texted ‘162’ thirty-five times—and  some making… less than absolutely no sense: ‘you left your souldust. inconvenient’.

Cas also texts things like: ‘intricte like a fish’, ‘love you eyesssssss’, and ‘hew do ur lipss get so redroses?’ …These are, to Dean’s utter chagrin, Sam’s favourites. In fact, the gigantor read them aloud, cackling like a troll during the entire half hour ride back.

So yeah, when Dean swings open the motel door to find Cas, elbows on the floor and laying half on the bed, tongue out as he squints and messily presses the buttons of his phone, the hunter is pissed. The fact that Cas is in his underwear, tie and socks, and is wearing his shirt like a turban, only mildly offsets that anger.

The minibar has been decimated, and empty bottles are strewn over the floor. Cas’s face flops to the floor with a satisfied sigh. In Dean’s pocket, his phone buzzes.

The hunter is fairly certain that any positive feelings he’s ever had for Castiel have dissipated. He doesn’t even bother looking at the text. With a concerned frown, Sam prudently decides to get another room. Dean barely notices his absence.

“Cas!” he barks.

Castiel’s head lolls to the side, face lighting up as he smiles big enough to break his face. In a series of uncoordinated movements, the fallen angel manages to stumble to his feet, giggling as he all but throws himself at the other man. “DEAN!” He hangs off of Dean like a monkey in a barrel. “Missssed youuuuuu.”

“Cas, what the fuck, man?!” With a growl, Dean pushes his friend away harshly. He realizes a moment too late that he was too rough, and watches Cas fall as if in slow motion, the fallen angel’s arm scraping against the coffee table. He looks up at Dean in absolute shock, baby blues welling with confused tears as he cradles the injured appendage, brows furrowing. “D-Dean?”

Dean scrambles to the floor. “Fuck, Cas. Shit, man, I’m sorry. I’m-”

When he reaches for his friend, Castiel pulls back warily. Dean feels his heart sink. “Cas,” he tries again. “Cas, please. I’m so sorry, dude. I just- I was so mad and I-I didn’t think.”

“Me too,” Castiel says, his voice tiny underneath the shame coating it. “Dean, ’m so sorry.”

Wait, what?

“Hey. Hey, look at me.” Gingerly, Dean takes Cas’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, other hand carefully placed over the other’s scratched arm. “You got nothin’ to be sorry for, buddy. Understand?”

Castiel’s lower lip quivers. When he opens his mouth, it’s with a sob. “But I do!” he cries. “I made a deal with the devil, Dean! An’ then I- then I was God, an’ I shhhhut out all the angels and I couldn’t even just please you, an’ I’m not- not enough all broken but your souldust is in all the little cracks-”

“Woah, woah, slow down,” Dean murmurs. Absently, his fingers brush wetness from Cas’s cheeks. “Everyone makes mistakes, Cas, the important thing is that you’re here, right? Don’t worry, man; I mean, hell, I started the apocalypse, remember? Everyone fucks up… we can fix this, Cas. We’re gonna fix this.”

Castiel hiccups.

“And I don’t know about souldust, but you’re… you’re enough, Cas. You’re always enough. And you… please me.”

“R-Really?”

“Sure,” Dean shrugs, face flushed.

Cas gives a watery smile and the hunter finds himself grinning in return. “Good,” Castiel mumbles, the word slightly jumbled. “’Cause you’re everything t’me.”

“I’m- what?”

And suddenly the tears are gone, and Cas is chattering happily, climbing into Dean’s lap like everything is better than right as rain, shirt falling into his eyes as the former angel falls into Dean. “I wrote you a… thing,” Castiel says seriously. “But the paper wasssn’t working. So isss here.” He taps his right temple. “Not sure I ‘member though. Something ‘bout green eyes and apples and mint and and…” he trails off, wide eyes trained firmly on Dean’s mouth. Dean swallows thickly.

“That’s, uh, that’s nice, Cas. Thanks.”

“Welcome.”

They’re kissing. Dean isn’t sure who moved first, Cas less so, but it’s warm and wet and tastes of alcohol and they’re pressing together all soft skin and hard lines and just—fuck. Cas’s hands move to tangle in Dean’s hair while the man in question runs his palms flat over Castiel’s bare thighs, fingers fiddling with the waistband of his boxers. He’s getting hard. Stupidly hard. Ridiculously hard. Absurdly hard because they’re just fucking kissing, and sloppily, at that.

Hands now gripping the other’s hips, Dean pulls Cas closer more harshly, nibbling at chapped lips and groaning at the happy little moans that escape Castiel’s mouth. His damned shirt is now falling between their faces, and Dean tosses it away without a second thought, smiling when he feels fingers tickling at the hem of his own shirt. “Off,” Cas mumble-orders.

The hunter smirks.

That smirk doesn’t last long however, because all too soon Castiel is pulling away, a confused sort of frown on his face as he breaks into a cold sweat. “Dean?” he slurs. “Don’ feel s’good.”

Right. Because that’s what happens when you drink an entire minibar.

They only barely make it to the bathroom before Cas projectile vomits into the toilet. Dean rubs his back.

An hour later, when the former angel has brushed his teeth and washed his face, body clad in one of Dean’s over-sized sleep shirts and his undies, Castiel turns to his companion. They’re cuddling in bed, Cas still drunk and completely exhausted, while Dean is absently pushing his fingers through dark hair, eyelids heavy. “Love you,” Castiel mumbles tiredly, the words more like an afterthought than anything else; like they’re not important because of course Dean already knows.

And maybe that’s kind of true.

With a private smile, Dean Winchester presses a tender kiss to Cas’s mouth, huffing a laugh when the other tries to reciprocate, even half-conscious. “Night, Angel,” Dean says sweetly. 

In his pocket, the hunter has one unread text:

To: Dean Winchester From: Castiel Sent 5:14 AM love yuo like the univers growing bif got in my underwear come see.

[solterrano-archive]

promo because botm poll

I’m up for someone’s botm and it would be oh so nice if you were to vote for me, winglessmeg, here.

And then if you reblog this and send me a message saying you voted, I will add you to a promo list to be posted after the poll ends. Said promo list is going to be unlimited, and will be posted no matter the number of notes this post reaches.

If you’ve already messaged me and are still waiting for a blograte, I’m sorry, but I can’t finish them. There got to be too many. Don’t worry though, you’re automatically on this promo list.

if you reblog this post but don’t message me, I won’t promo you. Sorry. The same goes for vice versa. Except in the case of the blograte messages.

and you do not have to be following me though it would be nice

[solterrano-archive]

hey guys!  i'm in a poll to be leovalhdez's May BOTM.

if you could vote for me (winglessmeg), that would be wonderful.  the poll is here.

if you vote, reblog this post, and tell me you voted, i'll give you a blograte that looks something like this:

url: /10

icon: /10

theme: /10

posts: /10

overall: /10

comment/advice: 

all rates will be tagged with "bridge rates"

[quillquiver]

How does everyone feel about the song 'Bound to You' by Christina Aguilera in relation to DeanCas? I kinda wanna do a cover of it :)

[solterrano-archive]

bridge's supernatural family

i had the idea, you wanted it, so here it is.

RULES (because we must have them)

mbf Bridge

reblog this post pretty please

see who's open in the family BEFORE messaging me

message me with who you want to be

after i have said that you get that character, submit to me your email so i can add you to the chat

if you do not submit those things to me within two days, i will take you off the family list.  sorry, but someone else might want that person as well.

and that's about it?  i think?  maybe.

and action!

i'll be tagging all asks pertaining to this with "bridge's spnfam".  feel free to blacklist.

[shippindales]

-whispers- 150 until 1k

[shippindales]

uh you guys, in my updates tab when you hover over the symbols for people and networks and it has the hover text, how do i make that opaque and in front of everything else so that it doesn't get covered by the next line?

[solterrano-archive]

Weee! a BOTS for you.

RULES

must be following this flower

check out my april/may botm

and their runner up

reblog this post, likes are not going to be counted as an entry but will be allowed for bookmarking

must reach at least 50 notes

I will choose the winners (2), runners up (3), and honorable mentions (undetermined)

reblogging ends the 19th of June, the winners will be announced on the 21st

they will be my bots from June 21st to September 22nd

LOOKING FOR

a fandom blog

a kind person running said blog

a nice, neat, clean, organized, etc. theme

someone who uses tags

a good URL

good posts

PRIZES - winners

promo when announced

a follow back from me if not already

unlimited promos throughout the entire season

a place in my updates tab for the duration of the season

help with anything should you need it

eternal love and friendship from me

PRIZES - runners up

promo when announced

a follow back from me if not already

up to five promos throughout the entire season

a place in my updates tab

hep with something if you need it

friendship and love from yours truly

PRIZES - honorable mentions

these are the blogs that don’t truly win much of anything. they are simply the blogs that didn’t quite make it as a runner up. there is no max or min number of honorable mentions.

they will be receiving a promo when announced and a follow back from me.

[quillquiver]

Open-ended question: So, I’m writing a fic where one of my characters gets tortured and loses quite a bit of blood. His back is riddled with deep cuts and he’s ridiculously weak by the end of everything (malnourished, etc). I was wondering if anyone knows what the recovery process/time would look like? Research has basically just led me in circles >.<